


Witches' Duel

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bath Sex, Dirty Talk, F/F, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Light Bondage, Prefect's Bath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-06
Updated: 2006-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In most duels, there's a winner and a loser. Sometimes, both combatants win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witches' Duel

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Springsmut 2006.

Professor McGonagall bustled across the classroom, handing out parchment slips bearing the day's practical Transfiguration exercises. "You'll work in pairs as assigned, and I'll hear griping from neither Slytherins nor Gryffindors if you please."

"Entwhistle? Well, at least I'll pass this lesson even if I don't understand a damn thing he says," Ron grumbled as he picked up his things and headed for the Ravenclaw table.

Harry chuckled as he turned to Hermione. "Padma's competent, so I suppose I'll pass as well. Who've you got, Hermione?"

"Parkinson," Hermione said with a grimace. "At least it's not Crabbe - I don't fancy being Transfigured into a goat before lunch." She grinned ruefully at Harry as he went to join Ron at the Ravenclaw table, then leaned back against her own desk and looked levelly across the classroom to the Slytherin section, where Pansy Parkinson had hoisted herself up onto her own table and sat, calmly watching Hermione.

"You'll have to come over here if you want to do the exercise," Hermione said loudly enough to be heard amid the chatter. "I'm not entering snake territory without a writ of free passage."

Pansy rolled her eyes and hopped neatly off the desk, her skirt flipping up only a bit as she landed and walked across the classroom. "Have it your way, Granger. Whatever it takes to get these sticks turned into centaur tail hairs and back again." She frowned at her parchment. "At least I think that's what this says. Honestly, McGonagall's handwriting is worse than Snape's."

Hermione moved her books to the bench and placed the sticks equidistant on the table top. "One centaur hair, one phoenix feather, and one wand-core ingredient of our choice." She blew her fringe out of her eyes and crossed her arms, studying the sticks. "Snape's at least got a reason to write clearly. Mistaking potions ingredients can be deadly, but mistransfiguring something is mostly just embarrassing."

Pansy shrugged a bit and nodded, then opened her notes. The two girls quickly managed the first Transfiguration, then fell into a mild argument about the best wand-core to use for the optional component, Hermione suggesting dragon heartstrings and Pansy holding out for Veela hair. Hermione quickly gave way to Pansy, though, when they heard McGonagall explain to another pair that dragon heartstrings were simple enough for fourth-years.

"Can't have that," Pansy said with a smirk. "We may hate each other socially, but you've got to admit we work well together, Granger, especially on the complex things."

Hermione nodded absentmindedly and flipped through her notes, trying to determine the best sequence of commands. "The Transfiguration is easy enough, but the Untransfiguration looks a bit trickier if we want to keep the stick crisp enough to snap." She pushed her notebook across to Pansy, tapping the line in question.

Pansy made a few notes in the margin, then looked across at Hermione. "You all right, then? Or have you given up sparring with Slytherins in some sort of self-improvement scheme?"

Much to her astonishment, Hermione found herself blushing and quickly busied herself with the sticks and the Transfigured centaur hair. "Look, have you got any ideas on the Untransfiguration?"

"Yes," Pansy said, hopping up on the table and hugging Hermione's notebook to her chest. "You've got an inflection marked a bit off, but I'm not going to tell you which one until you tell me what's up your skirt."

Hermione's eyes flew wide open at Pansy's words, and she fought to control the color now washing at the roots of her hair. "Nothing's up my skirt, Parkinson! Now, what's the problem?"

"You tell me." Pansy's voice was cool, and a tiny smile played across her face. "Maybe _that's_ your problem - what's the matter, Potter and Weasley running off with the girls and leaving you alone with your letters from Krum for company?"

"Shut it, Parkinson," Hermione muttered as she stared at the floor. "Just - drop it, will you?"

"No. Not unless you don't care about the third stick - and you know damned well that I'll take the loss of points in stride. Better than you will, anyway."

"It's loss of points you _should_ be worried about," Hermione blurted.

"What are you on about, Granger?" Pansy looked at her curiously, the teasing gone from her voice.

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms, wand dangling from her fingertips. "You've been taking guests into the Prefects' Bath. You know that's not allowed."

Pansy sat up a bit straighter. "How do you know that, Granger? Spying on me?"

"No," Hermione said quietly, "but I went to take a late bath on Monday - wanted to wash some of Slughorn's lessons out of my brain."

"Monday," Pansy said, then grinned slowly. "Did you see anything in particular? Something you're interested in?"

Hermione flushed again, but glared at Pansy. "I saw enough to know that you and Greengrass wanted your privacy, and I gave it to you. Just be aware that your locking wards were pants, Parkinson. Anyone could have walked in, even one of the boys. Unless that happened to be the point?"

"No! In a bit of a hurry, that's all." It was Pansy's turn to gulp a bit, and she looked at Hermione with the closest thing to a guilty expression that Hermione had ever seen on her face. "What do you want, Granger?"

"What do you mean?"

"To not mention it to Dumbledore or McGonagall. Or Snape, for that matter." Pansy grinned wryly. "It'd be counterproductive to mention it to Slughorn, perverted old bastard."

Hermione shuddered. "That's nasty, Parkinson. And it may be too late anyway - McGonagall saw me going into the bath and hurrying back out again. She knows something happened but I haven't told her yet."

"Bloody hell." Pansy hoisted herself off the table and quickly Transfigured the third stick into a Veela hair. "Quick, she's coming. Do the phoenix so we can get out of here." 

Hermione managed the feather Transfiguration just as Professor McGonagall reached them. At her command, the girls changed all three items back into sticks without a problem, Pansy's corrected inflection allowing the Veela hair to Untransfigure flawlessly. "Excellent work, girls. Ten points each to Slytherin and Gryffindor." She turned and addressed the class. "Class is about to end. One foot of parchment by Monday on why Transfigured wand cores would or would not create a wand that performs as well as one with the original material at its heart." The students packed their things in a hurry and swept out the door en masse.

Just outside the classroom, Pansy turned to Hermione. "Look, about McGonagall...."

"I don't know what to do," Hermione said quietly. "I mean, you broke a rule and inconvenienced everyone else, but it wasn't like - oh, I don't _know_ , Parkinson. Look, I've got to get to Runes."

Pansy nodded. "Think about it, will you? Meet me at the bath tonight at nine. I don't mind if you turn me in, but it's not Greengrass's fault."

As the between-class hordes began to fill the halls, Hermione huffed in frustration. "All right, tonight at nine." _And serves you right if you stew until then_ , she thought with a grin as she raced up to the Runes classroom.

::

  


At 8:57, Hermione walked down the hall toward the Prefect's Bath. She'd managed to evade Harry easily with an excuse about studying for Potions - which he didn't seem to need to do any more with that book, the rotter - and Ron was nowhere to be found. Probably off with Lavender, she thought grumpily, and gave the bath password.

Nothing happened.

Hermione gave the password again with the same results, and then pulled her wand to scan the doorframe. A pale pink light limned the edges of the jamb. Hermione sighed and raised her hand to knock.

At the first tap of her knuckles, the door opened. Pansy stood there, leaning against the doorframe. "See? I know how to cast locking charms."

"I could break that," Hermione said, pushing past her into the bath and slumping onto the bench that ran along the wall.

"Of course you could," Pansy said easily as she re-warded the door and then joined Hermione on the bench. "But it'd take long enough and be loud enough that whoever was in here would be able to finish up and get decent before the door opened. 'Oh, just wanting some more privacy, Professor. It's so immodest, sharing a bath with boys, don't you think?'"

Pansy's chuckle was infectious, and Hermione found herself laughing along. "Why am I here, Parkinson?"

Pansy shrugged and tucked her feet up under herself, her bathrobe falling around her in soft folds. "Mostly to persuade you in greater privacy than the Transfiguration classroom not to turn me and Greengrass in. Or at least her. It isn't Daphne's fault I dragged her in here."

"I'm not going to turn you in," Hermione said quietly as she leaned back against the wall, her legs straight out in front of her, and closed her eyes. "Ridiculous to cause trouble for a private matter."

"You'd think differently if it were Weasley occupying the bath with Brown."

"Eeew, stop!" Hermione shuddered. "And here I was just thinking you might be all right after all."

"Sorry," Pansy said in a tone that wasn't. "Is it that your interests lie elsewhere? Because the two of you have seemed destined for each other since we were firsties."

Hermione opened one eye and peered at Pansy. "Can we not talk about Ron? Else I'll bring up Malfoy, and you can explain what you were doing snogging Greengrass in here whilst your boyfriend was off doing whatever it is Malfoy does for fun. Having a statue carved of himself or something."

"Just because I'm likely to marry Draco and we're well-suited doesn't mean we're compatible in every way," Pansy said quietly. "And Daphne - she's a friend. It's nothing more, just some fun on a lonely winter night."

Despite herself, Hermione giggled. "The Slytherin definition of fun seems a bit different from the Gryffindor version."

"Oh really?" Pansy's voice suddenly seemed closer, and Hermione opened her eyes just in time to see Pansy's face descend on hers in a soft kiss. Pansy pulled back and wrapped her arms around her knees, expression uncharacteristically hesitant.

"What was that for?"

"Just showing you the Slytherin definition of fun." Pansy smiled a bit. "One of them, anyway. No animal torture involved."

Hermione cocked her head to one side and thought about this for a minute, then fixed Pansy with a stern look. "Are you going to sell Pensieve memories of that? Granger's weak moment?"

"No!" Pansy's jaw dropped. "Look, Granger, you may not like me much, but I'm not actively evil. So what if you kissed a girl? Believe me, that's not an issue worth torturing you over."

"Then what was it for?" Hermione's eyes narrowed and she sat up.

Pansy laughed. "Come on, Granger. You gave a Slytherin nearly ten hours between arranging the meeting and the meeting itself, and expect her not to come up with multiple schemes?"

"Schemes for what?"

"Most importantly, to get you not to tell McGonagall."

Hermione looked at Pansy. "I know that's not all. What else?"

Pansy smiled at her, just a hint of mischief in her eyes. "To see if the fabulously uptight Hermione Granger can be made to relax. To see if Gryffindors are any fun. To make the time I spent working on that locking spell worthwhile."

Hermione snorted. "You think you can make me relax."

"I know I can," Pansy said quietly as she leaned in for another kiss, this time opening her mouth just enough to let the tip of her tongue skate along Hermione's lips. "The question is whether you'll let yourself."

"I can't, Parkinson." Hermione struggled upright. "I have to study, and we shouldn't occupy the bath all night, and there's a parchment due in every class tomorrow -"

"You study all the time. People will notice the wards and complain, but they'll not bother us - this room is warded all the time by prefects, hadn't you noticed? Besides, I suspect you've written all your essays already. Recopying them doesn't count." Pansy kissed Hermione again, letting her tongue slide into Hermione's mouth when she opened it to argue the point further. "Just be quiet, Granger, and have some fun for once."

"I have plenty of fun!" Hermione glared at Pansy.

"Granger," Pansy said reasonably, "doing Weasley's homework and getting Potter out of scrapes isn't fun. What do those boys ever do for you, anyway?"

As Hermione thought about this for a moment, frowning, she was a bit too occupied to notice Pansy pulling her wand and whispering a spell. Suddenly, silken cords encircled Hermione's wrists, pulling them gently together behind her back. "Parkinson! What the fresh bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Getting you to relax," Pansy said. "I know it's an odd thing to ask, but trust me for a bit, will you? You're wound tighter than Dolores Umbridge and that can't be pleasant. It's certainly painful to watch." She stood and tugged Hermione to her feet, leaning her back against the wall and kissing her again.

Hermione tried to resist for a long moment, but Pansy's lips were so soft and her hair smelled so much like a field of lilies that Hermione was distracted enough to forget that she should be fighting. While she argued the point in her mind, she almost failed to notice Pansy tweaking the buttons of her shirt and pushing it off her shoulders, then undoing the buttons of her jeans. "Pansy Parkinson, what are you doing?"

"Shut it, Granger," Pansy whispered as she ran a trail of tiny kisses along Hermione's collarbone and down to the tip of her shoulder. She whispered the counterspell to Hermione's wrist bindings long enough to push the sleeves of her shirt over her hands, then re-cast the spell. With a swift smile, Pansy bent to kiss the side-swell of Hermione's breast, nibbling her way to the tan nipple already showing some interest in the proceedings. Hermione moaned just a bit as Pansy took the nipple between her lips, sucking it slightly and scraping her teeth shallowly along the sensitive skin.

At Hermione's moan, Pansy stood straight again and kissed her quickly, then untied her own bathrobe and let it fall at her feet. "Kick off your shoes, will you? This will be more fun in the bath than up here on cold wet tile."

"What will be more fun? Do you think you can get away with this?" Hermione tested the strength of the cords at her wrists, startled to notice that they tightened a bit with each tug.

"Hermione." Pansy smiled, her voice calm as she pushed Hermione's jeans and pants over the swell of her hips. "You're - what was it - the most talented witch of our generation. You know the counterspell to _Ligare_ , or you can figure it out with little trouble. Those cords are there because you want them to be." She stepped closer again, nuzzling along Hermione's hairline. "All you have to do is cast them off and you're free to go back to Gryffindor, where you can wonder for the rest of the year what might have happened if you'd stayed."

Hermione dutifully shimmied out of her clothes while Pansy talked, then looked up at the slightly taller girl. "What _is_ going to happen?"

Pansy grinned and took Hermione's elbow, drawing her slowly toward the wide steps down into the bath. "Come and see, won't you?"

Hermione followed, stepping carefully on the slick tiles and leaning slightly into Pansy's grasp. "This isn't the wisest thing I've ever done."

"No," Pansy said, "not for either of us." Her grin was bright and open. "But you've got to admit, Granger, two bright young witches could have quite a bit of fun in their unwise moments." She maneuvered Hermione carefully until she was sitting on the bench that ran around the edge of the bath. "Hands all right?"

"Be better in front," Hermione said, wriggling around until Pansy spoke a string of words that loosened the bonds enough to let Hermione find a more comfortable position.

"You don't get them in front," Pansy said softly, "but that might be enough for now." She moved to straddle Hermione's thighs, leaning in for a brief kiss. "Tell me, Granger, what ought I to do with you, now that I've got you here?"

Hermione chuckled. "You can't make me believe you haven't got plans already, Parkinson, or else you're far less of a Slytherin than I'd thought. Wasted all your time on the set-up and none on the payoff?" She tilted her face up, matching Pansy's earlier movement, and pressed their lips together. Though Pansy jumped a bit at the surprise action, she quickly responded and draped her arms across Hermione's shoulders as they nipped at each other's lips and tongues, soothing away the sharp sensations with long soft licks. As Hermione arched into the kiss, her hands still bound behind her, her breasts brushed across Pansy's nipples. "Pansy, my hands?"

"No." Pansy stole one more kiss, then scooted back until she stood on the bottom of the bath again. "Your hands stay where they are, Hermione, until I'm through with what I've planned." A cheerful look danced across her face as she reached to cup Hermione's left breast, floating weightlessly at the surface of the bath. Pansy's thumb slid across Hermione's nipple, rubbing gently until Hermione whimpered just a bit. "Like that?"

Hermione nodded.

"Say it," Pansy hissed, pinching Hermione's nipple just a bit. "Aloud."

After a gasp at the pinch, Hermione nodded again. "Yes. I like that." She arched into Pansy's touch, seeking more.

"Then maybe you'll like this as well." Pansy bent down to kiss the top of Hermione's breast, licking a short trail to the ruched skin of her areola before sucking the nipple fully into her mouth and rolling it between her tongue and ridged palate. She matched her tongue's movements to Hermione's whimpers, and mirrored her actions with her fingers on Hermione's other nipple.

Hermione sat up as much as she could so that her breasts broke the surface of the water, pushing up on her bound hands behind her. The feeling of Pansy's mouth and fingers was more than Hermione had experienced from anyone else - even Viktor, as adventurous as he'd been with her, hadn't been exactly focused on her own pleasure in the proceedings. "Merlin, Pansy, just like that," Hermione squeaked at one particularly nice feeling.

Pansy raised her head and let Hermione's nipple fall from her lips. "Keep talking and you can have whatever you like, all right?"

"You -" Hermione frowned. "You really haven't a plan?"

"Oh, I _had_ a plan," Pansy murmured, "but it didn't factor in your enthusiastic participation. More of a 'see what you're missing, you stupid Gryffindor' sort of thing."

Hermione giggled. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Just keep talking." Pansy grinned at her and returned to her previous dalliance with Hermione's breasts, adding soft squeezes and caresses to the licks and pinches.

Hermione moaned softly at the renewed attention until Pansy slowed and cleared her throat. "Oh, right! Talking. Um -" Hermione thought frantically. "More of this, please, with the lips and the fingers and the touching. It does feel quite nice, and - damn it all, Pansy, I can't _do_ this. It all sounds quite deranged, as if I were Pomfrey during the Intimacies seminar."

Pansy, giggling, stood up and brushed the damp hair out of Hermione's eyes. "That image does not help in the least, you know." She kissed Hermione's forehead, the tip of her nose, the groove of her philtrum, and finally the soft curve of her lips. "It's only that I rather like knowing what someone likes, and hearing it is dreadfully arousing."

"Oh? All right," Hermione said shyly. "I really did like when you were kissing my breasts. And the lips and fingers together were brilliant."

"Like this?" Pansy bent again, taking Hermione's left nipple in her fingers and the right between her lips.

"Yes," Hermione whispered, "like that. I can feel the roughness of your tongue, Pansy - oh, and that spot on your finger where you cut yourself in Potions last week, and oh! No biting!"

Pansy grinned. "See, you can do it."

"It's just a bit embarrassing, is all." Hermione felt herself blushing at the admission.

"Bizarre," Pansy said. "You're willing to sit naked in the Prefects' Bath with your hands tied behind you, but it's embarrassing to say whether you like it? Is that why you Gryffs always seem so bewildered by sex?"

"We're not bewildered by sex!" Hermione's eyes flashed with outrage until she began to laugh. "Much."

Pansy rolled her eyes again and tapped Hermione's shoulder. "Hop up on the edge, will you? And of course your lot's bewildered by sex. Just look at Weasley and Potter running after whatever they've noticed, when much better things are right under their noses."

Hermione moved up to the rim of the bath as directed, giving Pansy a confused look. "Whatever do you mean?"

Pansy kissed Hermione's knee, then climbed up to kneel on the bench where Hermione had just been sitting. "In a world occupied by sensible boys, you'd have to choose between the two of them. But they're adolescent wizards, and they think they'll never have sex again if they don't take the first thing on offer." She shrugged. "Leaves more time for things like this between girls with slightly more discriminating tastes."

"I don't want either of them! And why are we talking about this, anyway?"

"I have no idea," Pansy murmured, kissing Hermione's sternum just between her breasts. "Give me an idea of something better to do. More of the same?"

Hermione thought for a moment, only marginally distracted by Pansy's lips pressing feathery kisses across the undersides of her breasts. "No," she said hesitantly. "But I'm not quite sure what I do want, all right? A little guidance wouldn't go amiss."

Pansy hummed a bit as she dropped kisses across Hermione's stomach and abdomen, tracing wet tongue-lines between the freckles scattered sparsely across Hermione's pale skin. She nipped the rim of Hermione's navel and laughed when Hermione squeaked, then returned to mapping the freckles.

"It's almost like Astronomy star maps," Hermione said, "though I think Sinistra would have held our attention more if we were supposed to map them out on each other." She giggled. "Can you just hear Malfoy? 'I do not have those Weasley blemishes, Professor! I refuse to do this assignment!'"

"Well," Pansy mumbled against Hermione's abdomen, "he doesn't. And Weasley's practically the Milky Way. You, on the other hand, have a nearly perfect Orion across your tummy." She traced the map again, lingering on the Pleiades midway between Hermione's navel and the curly patch of hair below.

Hermione leaned back on her bound hands, arching into Pansy's tongue almost unconsciously. "Please," she whispered, "that feels lovely."

Pansy dragged her tongue just a bit lower, her chin brushing against Hermione's curls, and looked up across the long expanse of pale skin between their faces. "I'll stop if you like, Hermione," she said quietly. "It's up to you. No harm either way, I promise."

Hermione bit her lip, then set her jaw resolutely and nodded. "I want you to," she said. "Please." She leaned back a bit more, finding a comfortable position for her hands, and let her knees fall apart and one foot come up to hook at Pansy's waist.

"Just - please keep talking," Pansy murmured as she kissed the last few centimeters of skin before she nuzzled against the wet brown curls and flicked her tongue lightly against the crease between Hermione's labia.

Hermione gasped at the new sensation. "That's amazing," she said, "so light and yet it feels so good. More of that please?"

Pansy agreeably licked along the very edge of Hermione's outer labia again, from the top just below her mound down a few inches to where she couldn't reach any more. She sank back on her heels and pushed Hermione's knees apart, lavishing long slow swipes of her tongue along the crease as she did, pushing in a bit more with each pass.

" _Merlin_ ," Hermione groaned, rocking her hips a bit, "your tongue's all wet and I'm wet from the bath, and you'd think there'd be more friction but it's just floaty and slick and...." She leaned forward, watching Pansy move between her thighs, reaching to pull her labia apart and resume the slow tongue-stripes directly across Hermione's sensitized skin. "Gods, Pansy," Hermione said hoarsely.

Pansy chuckled and nibbled Hermione's labia just a bit, but looked up in surprise when Hermione moaned and rocked forward. "You like that?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, "a lot. Do it again."

"All right." Pansy experimented, switching between little sharp nibbles and larger, softer bites, laving each bitemark with her tongue. Once in a while, she let her tongue slide across Hermione's clit as she switched sides.

"Do that now, Pansy," Hermione said, watching avidly. "Please?"

"Tell me what you like," Pansy murmured as she reached up to caress Hermione's opening with her fingers, teasing and tugging the delicate inner lips as she made light teasing passes across Hermione's clit with her tongue.

"On the right - I guess it'd be your left," Hermione said softly, "not too much direct pressure, but steady."

Pansy nodded, rubbing the tip of her tongue across the hood with a steady pace and slipping one, then two, fingers inside Hermione to stroke in the same rhythm. Once Hermione was panting a bit and nearly purring, muttering a broken stream of words that would have been much dirtier if they'd been more than a vocabulary list, Pansy let her lips close around the sensitive nub. While she kept her tongue moving, she began to suck Hermione's clit, keeping it under tension as she flicked and stroked. Her cheeks and nose rubbed into the wet curls, making Hermione wriggle even more.

Suddenly, Hermione's eyes flew open and she muttered a bit of Latin. Pulling her hands free, she wound her fingers into Pansy's hair. "Don't you dare stop, Pansy Parkinson, don't stop - you've got me nearly there - don't stop with your fingers or your tongue or whatever it is you're doing with your _cheek_ , my God, yes just like that...." Her voice nearly died away as Pansy redoubled her efforts, pushing her fingers into Hermione faster and suckling her clit with just the hint of teeth behind it. "Just - like - _that_ ," Hermione gasped, then held Pansy's head perfectly still. "Don't move," she whispered. Pansy obediently stayed in place, suction on Hermione's clit and fingers crooked deep inside her, as Hermione clenched around her and moaned softly.

When the aftershocks had mostly died away, Pansy let her lips relax and slowly pulled her fingers from Hermione, dropping one last kiss onto the brown curls before straightening and looking up at her. "All right?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in a fine imitation of Pansy herself. "A bit beyond that, I think."

"You gave the counterspell."

"It wasn't any harder than that locking curse of yours." Hermione smiled shyly. "Look," she said hesitantly, "is there something I can do for you?"

Pansy looked quizzically at her. "You don't have to."

"But what if I -" Hermione broke off at the sound of a knock on the door.

"Oi! Who's in there?" Male voices outside the door had an edge of irritation. "No warding the Prefects' Bath on a school night before curfew!"

The girls stared at each other. "That's Draco," Pansy said. "He'll know it's me."

Hermione hopped up and held her hand out to Pansy, casting drying charms on both of them as Pansy clambered out of the bath. "We'd better hurry."

"Just a minute, Draco! My hair's wet," Pansy called out.

"Hurry it up, Parks! It's freezing out here." Malfoy's voice was peevish, but not particularly angry.

Hermione struggled into her clothes while Pansy wrapped her robe around herself. "Right," Hermione said. "Commence the argument, open the door, and let's bluster our way through this." She leaned toward Pansy and kissed her softly. "Meet me tomorrow night in the Charms classroom?"

Pansy chuckled and returned the kiss as Draco and Blaise began to hammer on the door. "Got a cunning plan of your own, do you?"

"No," Hermione said seriously, though her eyes were dancing. "I've got 24 hours to do some advanced study, though. Between the Restricted Section and pure Gryffindor bravery, I think I can at least manage to return the favor."

Pansy turned to the door and dispelled her wards, letting the boys in. "I should jolly well hope so, Granger," she said with a sneer. "We all know how _skilled_ you Gryffs are at games of strategy. I look forward to whatever it is you manage to come up with - I'm sure it will be _quite_ amusing."

Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped past the three Slytherins. As she turned to head back to Gryffindor Tower, she turned back to look. Pansy winked, then called after her. "It'd better be something special, Granger. A real witches' duel is meaningless without a few good charms."

Hermione returned Pansy's wink and raced off to the library. If she timed it right, she could make a pass through the Restricted Section just before Madam Pince closed down for the night. It was better to go into battle armed with multiple strategies - if she and Pansy were as evenly matched as Hermione suspected, she might need a variety of approaches. She grinned to herself as she burst through the library doors, looking forward to the rematch.


End file.
